Why We Must Go On

propriocetion of an unhappy deltoid the eyeball flambé of envy and other itches stitches palsies and gouts shout give up, throw it in, it’s too much! such suggestions never make me waver rather raise a stubborness in my endeavour ring a bell far out in my stormy sea inchcape finisterre inistrahull light oh no stubborness is the star stops me bailing out keeps me bailing in the teeth of howl gales bark though land and home and sky are out of sight and my unwilling bark fills fast in time’s approaching night and all is mist and sea’s unstable carp.